Set, I’m gonna fit right in when I put on my good clothes,
All I gotta do is pick six digits then I’ll live among the innermost,
Another cannonball, waiting for the axe to fall on the shit catapult,
people say I ain’t got no soul, but who knows.

Set, stagflating on the inside, another sunny day,
Gonna press the button over and over and I can’t wait for the eighties to be over again,
If I don’t give it up, how they gonna trickle down, I put my shit on the catapult,
My face is just a stepping stone, could go to Canada, could go to Mexico.

Ooh, another hot night cinematic, brand new fully-automatic soul

muscle truck is just a metaphor

Set, invisible hands gonna pull all the money out,
Gonna take every red cent, why you gotta be so reticent,
People say you gotta learn to love the smell when you run the shit catapult,
People say I ain’t got no soul, but who knows,
My face is just a stepping stone, could go to Canada, could go to Mexico.